


The City to the Distant West

by ltgmars



Category: Arashi (Band), Kanjani8 (Band)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 03:58:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4332987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ltgmars/pseuds/ltgmars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sho is a government official during the early Meiji period who's sent west on assignment. The people he meets there tell the story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The City to the Distant West

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://augustfai.livejournal.com/profile)[augustfai](http://augustfai.livejournal.com/) during [](http://kitto-slutparty.livejournal.com/profile)[kitto_slutparty](http://kitto-slutparty.livejournal.com/) 2014, originally posted [here](http://kitto-slutparty.livejournal.com/25390.html). She asked for historical fic as well as _8UPPERS_ fic, so this is an attempt at the former with a splash of the latter. Thanks to [](http://lysanderpuck.livejournal.com/profile)[lysanderpuck](http://lysanderpuck.livejournal.com/) for the beta!

Sho arrives in the city just before the sun, the air still cold despite the way the dirt road in front of him is dyed a pale orange. It's probably already completely sunny in Edo -- _Tokyo_ \-- but Sho's been travelling long enough that it feels like a different lifetime altogether. He can scarcely recognize himself as Sakurai Sho, Tokyo official. All he knows is the dull ache of his muscles as he puts one foot in front of the other, so close to where he needs to be and yet farther than he's ever been.

He's met by a pair of men standing at barren guard post along the road, who bow sharply before addressing him. "Sakurai-sama," one says. The syllables roll through his mouth like last week's beef tenderloin, warm and unexpectedly comforting for something Sho hasn't has much experience with. "I am Kiriyama, and this is Nakama. We will serve as your escorts during your time here. Please, this way. Yokoyama-sama has been waiting for you."

..

Yokoyama Kimitaka lives in a wholly immodest estate in the heart of the city, just beyond the charred ruins of the castle. Kiriyama and Nakama lead Sho under the main gate, through a lush rock garden and into the main greeting area. Two more attendants come out and bow low. Yokoyama will be in shortly, they inform him, and they keep their heads down for the next several minutes, raising them back up when the sound of heavy footsteps against wood echo across the path. A slender man paces quickly toward Sho, flanked by Kiriyama and Nakama from earlier, and he smiles politely as he settles into place at the edge of the entrance.

"Sakurai-sama," he says with a slow nod. Sho can't tell if he's genuinely friendly or just bitter to be receiving an official from the new capital. He nods back obligingly, keeping his eyes forward.

"Yokoyama-sama," Sho replies carefully. He watches Yokoyama's face but finds nothing of note there.

Yokoyama smiles again, and it's even harder to read than before. He turns to one of his attendants and commands, voice firm, "Shigeoka. Tea." The attendant bows and shuffles away.

"Now, Sakurai-sama." Yokoyama steps to the side and waves an arm forward, indicating the walkway. "Please, come in, and let me welcome you to Osaka."

..

The Meiji Restoration, as it's being called, is still in its infancy. The bakufu has fallen, and the Emperor has claimed control and moved east, officially taking the capital with him. Sho, like many officials at his level, has been sent on assignment to observe how the regional governments are making the transition.

Sho isn't sure what to expect from his assignment. He decides for the time being to observe, to see what he thinks he's supposed to see. He takes note of the way Yokoyama commands of his residence, the seeming organization of the attendants despite there only being seven of them -- all young and eager and thickly accented. He tucks his thoughts away in a corner of his mind for further reflection when he has an opportunity to actually write them down, but for the time being he smiles and nods as Yokoyama talks to him about his former position as the daimyo, the changes that have been made since the transition to the new government, the way he still keeps an eye on his former officers even if they no longer have the positions they did. Yokoyama doesn't go into detail, but Sho supposes that'll come in time, too, when he's been there long enough to be more than just someone to satisfy with empty pleasantries.

Yokoyama sends Sho to the best ryokan in the city, not too far from his residence and a comfortable distance from the main hub of activity. He'll be well taken care of there, Yokoyama explains, deeply pleased with himself, and Sho nods politely as he's taken away by two new attendants -- Kamiyama and Fujii -- who take his belongings and slip out of the residence before Sho can protest.

Sho can't help but feel that Yokoyama has something he isn't sharing, but he tables the thought for when he's more rested. At this point, his legs are completely numb, and his mind isn't doing much better.

..

Ryo receives Sakurai at the entrance, bowing slightly, watching the way his eyes drift from one corner of the hall to the other. Kamiyama and Fujii immediately take his belongings to the nicest room while Ryo welcomes Sakurai with the smile that Yoko had taught him, calm and measured, because you shouldn't be friendly right away with people from Tokyo.

"Please, make yourself comfortable," Ryo says automatically as they reach the room and he slides the door open. Sakurai's eyes stay for a long moment on Ryo's before they slip toward the ground with a small nod of gratitude. Ryo struggles to keep the uncomfortable look off his face, so he focuses instead on introducing the room, indicating it with a flat outstretched hand. "Yokoyama-sama told me to take care of you, so we'll bring some sake to your room shortly."

Sakurai grins at that. "I appreciate that."

Ryo bows again, slightly more at ease. "There's an excellent izakaya down the road that Yokoyama-sama enjoys frequenting. We'll have the attendants bring you tomorrow evening."

"I think I'll explore on my own, but thank you," Sakurai says in return, dipping his head.

Ryo smiles broadly, considerably more uncomfortable than before.

..

Subaru sets his cart in front of the ryokan early in the morning, before the sun rises, and he works to build a fire in the stove that will serve him for the rest of the day. The sweet potatoes are, as usual, gifts from "friends in the fields" -- more precisely, bribes sent to Yoko to keep the farmers in his favor -- and Subaru gets just enough to sell his morning and early afternoon batch. By evening he'll either have run out of potatoes or decided that he's worked hard enough for the day, and depending on how he feels, he'll either head home for an early night or head out to see his old comrades at any of their usual gathering places.

By the time Sakurai leaves the ryokan, Kamiyama only just far enough behind not to make Sakurai totally conscious of his presence, the sun is up, and Subaru already has a handful of potatoes baked and ready for consumption. Subaru clears his throat and starts to yell praises for this famous baked sweet potatoes. Sakurai looks directly at him, and Subaru finds himself feeling sheepish about the way he runs his business, so loud and direct and probably not what people in Tokyo are used to, but the thought of making enough money for a night cap later on gets him through the day.

"Baked potato, Mister?" Subaru calls out with a giant grin on his face, as if addressing a stranger isn't terrifying to him, as if he doesn't know who Sakurai is.

Sakurai smiles a practiced smile -- how very like a politician -- and raises his hand. "It's a bit early, but I'll take one." He seems like a good enough guy on the surface. Subaru wraps up a piping hot potato and passes it along, keeping his hand out for a few coins, which he receives with a gracious "come again sometime".

Subaru keeps his eyes on Sakurai as he holds the sweet potato gingerly with his fingertips, staying close to the cart probably more for heat than for companionship. Steam from Sakurai's potato billows into the air like Subaru's seen in some of the western artwork that Yoko's imported over the past few years. "Expressionism," Yoko had said with an air of intelligence he didn't possess. "The Edoites are doing it, so we should, too."

"Any ideas on what to do around here?" Sakurai asks casually, between puffs and bites of his sweet potato.

Subaru takes a moment to think; he only has a few places he goes to in the city, so it's just a matter of order. "You could head into the merchants' quarters and find some things to buy. I have an old friend who does some textile printing. It might not be what you're interested in, but he'll know what to do with you from there."

Sakurai nods. "Thanks. I'll do that. Nishikido-san here at the ryokan told me to visit the izakaya around here, but I think I'd like to avoid the afternoon crowd" -- the ones that are already drunk from the night before when they come in, Subaru hears between the lines -- "so I'll do some wandering first."

"How long do you plan to stay in Osaka?" It's a detail Yoko hasn't been able to figure out himself.

Sakurai frowns slightly, his face creasing and cragging like the sweet potato he's holding. "Not quite sure. Hopefully I'll find out soon."

..

Shota settles into his seat and examines the materials laid out on the desk in front of him. He's still working on the blocking for his print, based (though he won't admit it) on Ohkura at Becky's place. He has long limbs and a face that's strangely entrancing -- very wabi-sabi. Shota doesn't often have the funds to make it to Becky's with any regularity, but having been in the position of one of Yoko's close advisors, he gets to slip in on occasion.

Ohno greets him as he enters the workshop. "Good afternoon, Yasu," he says quietly, nodding like it's still too early to be awake. Between the two of them, Ohno gets to visit Becky's much more often; Shota's happy that he gets to lead such a fulfilling life, but he doesn't envy the amount of energy that MatsuJun seems to have. Ohkura's told him countless tales about it, and the bags under Ohno's eyes every morning (or afternoon) after tell the story in even greater detail.

"Good morning, Oh-chan," Shota says gently. "You know we have that special guest in town. He came in from Tokyo last night."

Ohno makes a low humming noise; he doesn't seem up to knowing anything at this point. "D'you expect him to come here?"

Shota shrugs lightly and pulls out his woodworking materials, checking the sharpness of his chisel before turning to his woodblock. "Shibuyan knows what to do."

It's a couple hours later when Sakurai comes into the shop, carrying with him the smell of baked sweet potatoes and out-of-town curiosity. "Excuse me," he calls. Shota sets his inkstone down quietly and goes to greet him.

Ohno's the one who ends up making a connection with the stranger, surprisingly quickly considering the fact that Ohno is still waking up. But Shota sees why it happens -- Ohno's presence is easy to bring in close, even for someone who's only first met him. It may even be what Sakurai has been looking for, a person he can be around without having to hold his head up straight the entire time.

Shota watches as they make plans to visit the izakaya Sakurai had evidently gotten rave reviews about -- and that makes sense, too, because Yoko's favorite izakaya is nothing if not sublime. Ohno and Sakurai invite Shota to come along, but Shota politely declines. He'll take the opportunity to head to Becky's for an early visit, before the rest of the group gets there.

..

Kazunari's good at talking to new people, so when Yoko comes in before opening and explains that their guest Sakurai will be coming by for some food and drinks that night, Kazunari knows which weapons he'll want to pull out for the first encounter: a lazy smile, interested eyes, the words he'll use to convince Sakurai to buy more without saying a thing about money.

Hina had once told him that Kazunari was terrifyingly good at being calculative; in the same breath, he told him that he was glad they were running the izakaya together. Kazunari can feel Hina's eyes on him from behind as he chats with Yoko to learn more about the guest, and there's absolutely no feeling necessary to see the way Yoko shoots longing glances back at Hina between sentences. They're cute in a pathetic kind of way, and Kazunari is having too much fun to help them figure out what the rest of the group has known for years.

"Do you think he'll be making it down to Becky's?" Hina asks as he slides his legs under the low table where Kazunari and Yoko are sitting. His sleeves are tucked in at his shoulders from wiping down the tables, and Kazunari wants to kill himself at the way Yoko stares but Hina still doesn't seem to notice.

"If he's bringing Ohno-san along, they'll definitely make it there," Kazunari replies, leaning back against his hands. "Should I go check in with them to make sure they're ready to receive him? The two of you will be okay on your own before Maru comes in?" he teases.

Yoko grins knowingly at Kazunari, and an unpleasant feeling peels through him. "You just want to see Becky, don't you?"

Kazunari shivers; he's always been able to predict when Yoko is going to be correct.

..

Becky's typical greeting at the sound of the sliding entrance door turns a little brighter when she raises her head and sees Nino standing there. She's always had a special kind of affection for Nino, and she knows exactly where it comes from. It's partly because he's so comfortable to be around, and partly because of what she's heard from her boys: he's a great lay, and especially cute when he pretends to be aggressive but lets himself get dominated. As the Mama of the place, Becky doesn't get as much action as the rest of them do, except when she's specifically asked for. As it stands, their clientele mostly seem to enjoy pretty men writhing in pleasure -- that's their specialty, after all -- and who is she to deny what will bring them more money?

"What brings you here so early?" Becky chirps. "Need something quick before the evening rush? Tadayoshi's occupied, but the others should just be getting ready."

Nino gives her a lopsided smirk. "What does it take to get you instead?"

Becky's heart stutters in her chest, but she swallows it down before quipping back. "You can't afford me."

This is the main thing Becky likes about Nino: he's such a stimulating conversation partner. She'd be lying if she said she didn't want something more than that, but his lilting voice and his eyes on her are usually enough to get her through the nights when business is slow and she has to make her own fun -- sometimes two or three times.

Aiba comes into the entrance hall from one of the back rooms and raises his hand in greeting. "Oh, Nino. You need a quickie? You know I'm always ready for you." He parts the front of his yukata and raises his eyebrows, as if anyone needs clarification.

Nino looks at him silently before his eyes turn back to Becky. "Just relaying a message before I head back. That guy from Tokyo, Sakurai, is going to come by tonight. If Ohno-san is bringing him, Jun-kun can probably expect a busy night."

..

Jun stretches every part of his body extensively before the place opens for the night. He can usually expect business from Ohno, whether or not it's paid for -- though he's long stopped minding the free visits -- and some nights, like tonight, he knows he'll get extra attention from new guests to the city. The Tokyo officials tend to pay more because they expect the best -- and Jun's worked hard to earn that title, because if he can't have it, then no one will.

Ohno and Sakurai are completely drunk by the time they arrive; leave it to Nino to talk them into so much sake they can barely stand. But Jun enjoys this, too -- it's like a challenge letter from Nino, because if anyone can get their guests to feel good even when they're too drunk to feel the ground beneath their feet, it's Jun.

Sakurai buys Jun some sake because he needs to "get on this level with them". When it arrives at their door, Jun slides it toward himself, careful to make slow eye contact with Sakurai as he folds his legs to the side and tips the drink down his throat slowly, with long gulps. Jun sees Sakurai's eyes shine at the sight, and when Sakurai slides forward to pour him another cup, his steadfast eagerness overcoming his impaired hand-eye coordination, Jun knows it's going to be a good night. He watches as Sakurai licks his plump lips unconsciously, and Jun gives him a sly smile as he sets his cup down and starts to unwrap his present from the east. Jun can feel Ohno watching, eyes intent, and Jun gives him a significant look as he gets on his hands and knees, spreading his legs like an open invitation and leaning forward to slide his hand down Sakurai's torso.

It's a shame Jun's so good, really. He smirks up at Sakurai when he feels Ohno's hands on his hips, working their way down his thighs and back up under the fabric. Nino's got to work a lot harder if he wants to give Jun a real challenge.

..

Masaki gets his first glimpse of the now infamous Tokyo man the next morning as MatsuJun leads him and Ohno to the entrance. He looks exactly the way Nino had described him last night -- intelligent, personable, smoking hot. He also doesn't look very well rested, which is to be expected when his first night at Becky's is with Ohno and MatsuJun. Masaki catches MatsuJun massaging his wrists lightly as their guests leave, and Masaki rubs his back softly as he offers to make him tea; MatsuJun probably had the most tiring night of all.

..

Shingo brings a second bottle of warm sake to Nino and Subaru's table. Their heads are tucked in close together in quiet conversation and the occasional mischievous snicker, but they open up immediately when Shingo settles into the table with them.

It's been about two weeks since Sakurai's come into town, and he seems to be adjusting well to the laidback Osaka atmosphere, to the relationships that their group has developed over the years they've known each other, back when they were first assigned to Yoko as their daimyo until today, when their roles and lives have shifted time and time again, desperate to keep up with the shifting era.

Maru brings them the pot of oden that he'd prepared in the kitchen and slips his legs under the table next to Shingo. "It's too bad Sho-kun can't stay here forever," his sad sigh joining the steam from the pot and rising to the ceiling.

"You're a bad influence on him, Maru," Nino says seriously, clicking the tips of his chopsticks together as he decides on what to take out of the pot first. "He was so sexy when he first got here, if a little distant, but now he messes around with you too much."

Maru makes a sudden percussive noise as if it's a proper response, and on instinct, Shingo's hand swings up to smack him on the head.

..

When Satoshi is feeling particularly frustrated with a piece he's working on, he'll send for Sho. One of the young attendants will bring him to the shop -- Satoshi likes Hamada best, because he'll almost always take his leave with an impersonation of one of the members of their group. Sho will compliment both Satoshi and Yasu on their current works in progress, and even though Sho has no demonstrated skill or knowledge of their craft, Satoshi appreciates the praise because he does like that his hard work is being acknowledged.

Satoshi will step out of the shop for much needed fresh air, careful not to think too much about how much time he spends not working on his art, and he and Sho will drift together through the merchants' quarters, looking for food to munch on or trinkets for Sho to bring back to Tokyo, whenever he's supposed to make it back.

They'll visit MatsuJun sometimes when the folks at Becky's place are off duty, and occasionally Aiba will join them, taking up too much of Satoshi's energy but giving back just as much because they're on the same wavelength so often.

One day when Satoshi sends for Sho, Nishikido comes instead. "Sakurai-sama received a message from the officials in Tokyo. He didn't share the contents with anyone, but he seemed upset by it. Locked himself in his room for a while. Said he had to sort through his notes."

Yasu chimes in from where he's sitting at his desk. He has his elbow propped up, his chin resting in his palm. "I forgot all about that. He was sent here to observe us, wasn't he?"

Nishikido nods his head up and down, lips pursed, hands crossed over his chest. "Yokoyama-kun especially, I think, since he's still a city official. We were probably just extra information since we worked for him before."

Satoshi frowns down at his hands, blotchy with the ink of the latest project he's been working on, only two layers in and already a "masterpiece" in Sho's eyes. He doesn't like to think of Sho as having used their time together for information, like he'd been spying on them, but he couldn't think of any other way to spin it.

"Well, let's wait a bit longer to see what he does," Yasu says, his voice calm and comforting. "If he's here on some kind of assignment, there's nothing we can do about it."

There is, actually, if Yoko decides something needs to be done, but Satoshi doesn't have to say aloud what they all know is a very real possibility.

..

Ryuhei bows and announces his presence at the main entrance of Yoko's residence. Either he recognized the voice or knew he was coming, but Kotaki immediately slides the door open and greets with a casual smile, stepping aside and ushering him in. Ryuhei smiles back at him, full of affection. He's so tall and pretty for such a young kid.

Yoko receives him in his private dining room, where he already has cups laid out for them, and he grins when Ryuhei lifts up a bottle of the newly imported wine they've just acquired at the izakaya. "Nino let you take that? You actually worked up the courage to ask?"

Ryuhei chuckles sheepishly. "Shin-chan asked on my behalf."

"So pathetic," Yoko says with no venom, lining up the cups and gesturing for the bottle.

They're a few cups in and vaguely rosy-cheeked before Yoko brings it up. "We need to figure out what to do with Sho-kun." It comes out wistful and sharp all at once, and Ryuhei understands. As a person Yoko's gotten quite fond of their visitor, but as an official he has always had to put his own safety first.

Ryuhei nods earnestly, his legs tucked under him and hands on his thighs. "You don't think he's just going to go back to Tokyo without doing anything?" He knows it's a silly question, but part of him hopes it isn't.

"Maru," Yoko says firmly. "We've been doing this for long enough to know that it never ends the way we want it to."

..

Sho feels more eyes on him than usual when he next makes it to the izakaya. It's like the entire city -- even the ones who aren't part of Yokoyama's main group -- know what he's actually there for. He's only just found out that observing was only a small part of it; he's supposed to identify the weaknesses and use them to eliminate the political threat that the group poses. How to "eliminate" the threat seems like a matter completely beyond him. Yokoyama has all of the local resources, manpower, and charisma that a regional leader should have; surely Sho's superiors in Tokyo can't expect him to actually make a difference here in Osaka.

Sho wishes he could write a report back saying that no threat exists, that they're all a bunch of good guys who like to drink and fuck (though he'd keep those details a little more private). But he knows as well as anyone in an official position that power isn't acquired and maintained just by being a good guy. Somewhere in the background, deals are made and lives are destroyed in order for those at the top to stay at the top. It would be easier if it were just Yokoyama he were dealing with -- one person whose status was melted down with his castle -- but it's all of them: the izakaya owners who are a little too money savvy, the brothel workers whose pillow talk include topics like physical training regimens and military strategy, the textile artists with much higher than normal mechanical competency. Even the street vendor and ryokan owner who between them know every major Buddhist chant and regional political structure. There are too many people who know too many things; too many eyes and ears all over a city that only pretends to be easy-going.

He smiles up at Yokoyama from across their shared table and shovels some more rice into his mouth. Yokoyama smiles back at him and pours him more sake.

When Sho wakes up again, he's lying in a room surrounded by a dozen people, his hands tied behind his back.

..

Kimitaka nods at Becky when it's clear that Sakurai has regained consciousness, groaning in front of them. Becky heads to the entrance to turn back any guests who can't read the sign they've put on the brothel door. Kimitaka can feel the tension in the room, heavy on his shoulders and against his skin, as the group waits for him to say the first word.

"Sorry we had to do that, Sho-kun," Kimitaka says, half earnest and half anxious because he's still not sure how this is going to end.

"It's okay," Sakurai replies wryly, even as he's squinting his eyes as they adjust to the gas lighting in the room. "I expected something like this to happen."

"We didn't," Aiba comments bitterly, eyes dark. "Well, we did, but it was so nice to pretend we didn't."

Kimitaka addresses Sakurai again. "Can you tell us why you're really here?"

Sakurai tugs at his bound wrists as if to make a point. "Seems like you already know."

"Well, in that case, you can hear me out."

Hina clicks his tongue. "Look what you've done now. Once he starts complaining, he never stops."

Kimitaka huffs out a laugh despite himself, and then he straightens his back and clears his throat to make sure all eyes and ears are on him. He likes being the center of attention.

..

It's a simpler decision than Sho imagined it would be. Yokoyama and his group have good reason to be as angry as they are about the new government order: the way too many changes were made too quickly, and too many people who were only doing their best to support their cities had been cast aside, all lumped together as villains who should have everything they've worked to build stripped away. Everyone who was working closely with Yokoyama before, from monks to military leaders, suddenly had to fend for themselves and use what little resources the new order left them to survive. Yokoyama did what he could to protect the people who'd been most loyal to him, and occasionally, very occasionally, it meant earning money by less-than-ideal means or "eliminating threats" the way Sho had been sent to Osaka to eliminate one there.

"I don't know if you'll believe me," Yokoyama says then, "but we won't actively resist. We don't plan to go up against this new order." Behind him, his ten comrades nod.

And Sho gets it. He probably wouldn't have gotten it until he met the eleven of them, but now that he's been among them, observed not only what they do but who they are, he thinks he wants what they want. The chance to live their lives without feeling like they've been punished, like they always have to be looking over their shoulders for the next person who's decided they don't deserve to be there at all.

They're the rubble of the Restoration. Sho's family's been privileged enough to be on the winning side up till now, but how many lives have been broken down in the name of the Emperor?

As soon as Sho makes his decision, MatsuJun unbinds his hands, and Nishikido takes him back to the ryokan.

..

Kiriyama is the one who brings Sho the fresh writing utensils for the note to his superiors in Tokyo. The less he says, he thinks, the better. Even if he tried to explain it, they probably wouldn't understand.

_No threat identified in Osaka. As a precaution, I request a permanent transfer, to observe._  



End file.
